The little one had a birthday. Not just any birthday (by the way). The kid turned 28. Closer to 30 than 25…and if you can’t grasp the significance, just ask a 57 year-old what it’s like turning 58.
Our baby’s no longer a baby.
The others evaporated; I thought SHE’D stay. The others flew east—she went west. Degree in one hand, Coach bag on another, she too was Gone with the wind…to the Windy City. Not coming back.
It’s OK, though. Somehow it fits. She fits. Anywhere.
Long before Everybody Loved Raymond, everybody loved Stacy. From days in a carrying case with Rocky to afternoons as a manikin in storefronts… to nights under the stars with Jason.
Everybody loves Stacy.
She is a “people person” continually touching people. No wonder she’s in sales: that too fits.
The word “friend” has been devalued by Facebook, but Rooney defies odds. Maintaining ties everywhere, (real ties), she still cares, shares, listens and glistens to a myriad of people she’ll reach out and touch. To this day she personifies Hands Across America.
Yesterday they reached back. As she fought mosquitoes on a lake with Sister Sarah, they reached back.
From her first roommate to her first boyfriend. From school friends to camp friends to business associates. They reached back.
The mother of kids she sat, the sister of a sister-in-law. Cousins from the coast. The kid brother of a best friend. Dan Carter.
They reached back.
We spoke last night. At day’s end. I was driving back from Columbus when she called. Twice Ms. Bohrer put me on hold; once she had to call me back. Other callers (you know). Other well-wishers. I get that. I understand.
Everybody Loves Stacy.
Happy birthday Stacy